Unwrap the Panther
by Flight-of-Fantasies
Summary: Merry Christmas Ichigo. Yeah festive no-plot-smut!


Unwrap the Panther

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**A/N A quick GrimmIchi for the holidays, because sometimes you need to escape. Enjoy the festive-no-plot-ness!**

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The mounds of coloured paper were strewn like debris across the room. A couple were slightly charred, as Grimmjow had had a slight mishap with attempting to throw it into the rubbish bag, and it had ended up too close to the gas fireplace. And when the wrapping paper caught fire, instead of putting it out like a sane person, he had simply stated how similar it was to Ichigo's hair colour.

Ah, Christmas time.

Grimmjow was currently unwrapping one of Ichigo's presents whilst the other watched him with amused eyes. The blue-haired male had the hardest time undoing the little ribbons, yet absolutely refused (in some misguided show of male testosterone) to use scissors. It resulted in rather comical hulk-esque tearing of the paper.

"So?" Ichigo questioned, eyes still twinkling with mirth.

"Just a sec," the other grumbled, concentrated on unwrapping the damn thing. It was like Fort Knox! How much sellotape did Ichigo use? A whole damn roll?

Finally, a dark shape slid out of a hole and onto the floor. Grimmjow regarded it curiously, picking it up. The texture of the material was soft and furry, and it seemed rather bulky.

Ichigo's grin had morphed into a full on Cheshire-cat smirk.

"What the…" the other held it up and his eyes widened in comprehension.

It was a onesie. A jumpsuit. A full-on-body-suit. Totally black, complete with a tail and a hood with little ears.

Ichigo burst into laughter at the priceless expression on his lover's face as he contemplated the gift, head cocked to one side.

"Haha I take it this is a gag gift Kurosaki?" he drawled finally, setting it aside.

"Na-ah-ah," Ichigo was having none of that. "My sisters have them. They're really warm and great for lounging around the house – like you always do. So instead of wearing that ratty t-shirt and your scummy jogging-bottoms, you can wear this."

Grimmjow eyed it with distaste.

"I don't think so…"

"Are you scared you'll look stupid?" Ichigo teased.

"No…" Grimmjow's eyes slid to the side and he made to shove the gift away.

"Oh come on, just put it on! You'll see how comfy it is I swear. And if you don't like it, you don't have to wear it again," Ichigo bargained.

"Fine," the other grumbled. "But only because it's Christmas."

Grimmjow stomped off into the bathroom to get changed. He did not want Ichigo watching him put on the stupid cat suit. It was ridiculous. Trust the stupid flame-head to think up something like this. Where did he even find it…?

Grimmjow decided he may as well take off all of his clothes before putting it on. The material was surprising soft and delicate and not at all itchy as he had first imagined. It made him want to roll around and feel every inch of it on his skin.

Wait what?

Muttering under his breath about cats and idiots he zipped up the front and, against his better judgement, put up the hood as well. A couple of his unruly blue locks sprang forward across his forehead in protest, but it stayed up.

It was footless, so he padded barefoot back into the main room where Ichigo was waiting patiently. Steeling himself against whatever mockeries and teasing were sure to come his way, he looked Ichigo straight in the eye.

Nothing came.

Grimmjow blinked and looked properly at Ichigo. A light pink flush was spread across the bridge of his nose. His partner's whiskey brown eyes were slightly hooded, their pupils dilated. They fixed him to the spot, the fire in them one that Grimmjow knew very well.

Ichigo was turned on.

But before he even had time to take a breath and comment on the new development he found himself tackled to the ground, on the rug in front of the fireplace.

The flame-haired male's hands were everywhere, stroking, caressing: revelling in the feel of the hard planes of Grimmjow's body covered by the soft velvety fabric of the suit.

Grimmjow shuddered into that touch, one he had felt so many times, but not like this. The feeling of the fleecy fabric against his skin, joint with Ichigo's feathery touches and the gentle heat from the fire beside them made him buck up into each and every stroke.

He grabbed the face above him and smashed their mouths together in a kiss. Ichigo moaned into his mouth and Grimmjow grinned. He tasted faintly of eggnog and chocolate, the warmth of the whiskey an edible rendition of his eyes. A hand ran down his side and gripped his thigh, causing Grimmjow to bend his leg up and plant his foot on the floor. The plush of the rug felt heavenly between his bare toes.

Grimmjow used that foot as leverage and thrust up, their bodies flush. Ichigo moaned as his t-shirt rode up and the skin of his abdomen rubbed against the softness of the panther suit. As his tongue continued to plunder Ichigo's mouth, Grimmjow slid one of his hands down to grasp the edge of Ichigo's stupid Christmas t-shirt. The green item of clothing went flying, a smiling Christmas tree with googly eyes landing on the back of a chair, eyes observing the couple on the rug. If inanimate objects could blush, it would.

Ichigo's hips had Grimmjow pinned to the ground now, and as he ground into the other. Grimmjow's erection, barely covered by the soft yet flimsy material, was stimulated further by the rough material of his lover's jeans. His hands fell to the rug and he gripped the silky strands, fingers twined through the plush.

He groaned as his head fell back he lost control of the embrace, Ichigo's mouth abandoning his to kiss down his jaw and nip his neck. The heat of the fire was making his cheeks hot, and he bucked up again into the man above him. The action triggered another shudder, and suddenly Ichigo's hands were no longer on him. He opened an eye he didn't even remember closing and watched as his lover deftly divested his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a pair of Santa boxers.

Grimmjow smiled faintly, remembering that gift from last year, and the mind-blowing sex it had led to. But he didn't have long to reminisce, and those teeth and hands were attacking him yet again. He tried half-heartedly to take control and flip them over, but Ichigo quickly denied him, hands pinning his shoulders to the ground, and knees either side of his hips, effectively blocking him in.

Grimmjow growled again as the other rubbed his nearly naked body the long of his own, clearing taking pleasure in the soft furry texture of the black cat suit. It was sensual in a way he would never have imagined possible. Then suddenly the lips that were on his neck were on his chest as the zipper of his suit was slowly opened.

Not one to sit back and do nothing, Grimmjow lifted one hand from the rug and slid it down his lover's smooth back. The muscles underneath twitched at his touch, and he continued on down until he came to the hem of the boxers. Slowly he dipped his fingers underneath the elastic and pulled. The material slid down and he had full access to Ichigo's perfect ass.

Just as he was about to begin massaging those firm globes, Ichigo moved abruptly, undoing his zipper all the way. Grimmjow hissed as his erection sprung free, slightly damp with precum. Whiskey eyes met glacial blue and Grimmjow smirked as Ichigo licked his lips, bringing them to his arousal. That smirk faded slightly as hot wet heat surrounded him suddenly. Ichigo's tongue darted out and circled the head, teasing the sensitive skin. Grimmjow couldn't hold back his moans as his lover set a fast past, cheeks hollowing and flaming hair flowing from the movement.

He sat up slightly, propped up on one elbow, and grabbed a handful of those fiery locks. He got a slight moan in return; the vibration creating such a heady sensation that even the tips of his toes tingled.

Unable to handle it any longer he ripped the other from his task. Ichigo smirked up at him, eyes dark with lust. His boxers had come off somewhere along the way, and Grimmjow was surprised to see that whilst he had been sucking Ichigo had also been prepping himself.

His dick suddenly got impossibly harder.

With one swift movement he brought the other into his lap and slowly impaled him. He watched through slit-eyes as Ichigo threw his head back in pleasure, exposing his slender throat and bobbing Adam's apple.

He would never stop finding the other absolutely enticing.

Once he was fully seated in that intoxicating tight heat he paused. It took all off his self-restraint not to begin bouncing his lover up and down on his lap with abandon. Yet even as he fought against the urge, Ichigo began doing it in his stead.

Their moans and grunts and groans joined the sound of skin slapping against skin in an erotic cacophony.

As they got faster and louder and harder the faint sound of the doorbell ringing and Christmas carollers reached their ears, but they were too far gone to even react.

Ichigo's hands were still caressing the soft velvety fabric of the suit that remained on Grimmjow's back, blunt nails digging in further and further as their thrusts got wilder and wilder.

"Gnnnah," the orange-haired male moaned, unable to take it any longer.

Grimmjow growled, deep in throat, as the muscles around his arousal began to clench.

"Fuck, Ichi," he panted, as the other's grip became even tighter.

"Ngh, gunna come," was all the warning Ichigo gave before throwing his head back. With a long keening sound, he came; his eyes screwed shut as if his orgasm was blinding him. The thin white strands landed on Grimmjow's exposed chest but he hardly noticed.

He pounded harder, two three thrusts more until his own climax overtook him. Seeing stars, he released into his lover, the sensation overtaking his whole body.

Aside from the heavy breathing of the couple, silence reined once again the living room.

They lay side by side on the rug, pink-faced and sticky. Grimmjow turned to look at Ichigo, his features curving into a large smirk.

"Now I see why you wanted me to wear it. It was more a present for you than me eh?" he teased, voice still rough.

Ichigo sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, a grin splitting his face in two.

"Merry Christmas to me then. I got to unwrap the panther."


End file.
